I Say Goodbye and Goodnight
by Heidi Doeing
Summary: New York City, 1977. Nikki the Vampire Slayer's life in the six months before she met Spike for the last time.
1. Goodbye

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot  
  
I Say Goodbye and Goodnight  
  
23rd Precinct, New York City, April 1977  
  
"I don't know Bregs, the M.O. isn't the same," the street clad detective said to his partner, laying the manila files down and sitting on the edge of the desk.  
  
"So what are you saying, Sullivan? That we have another serial killer on our hands?" the short blonde detective replied, looking up at him from her chair.  
  
Detective Sullivan was about to reply when the captain's voice boomed across the room. Beat cops and others scuttled around looking busy, looking anywhere but at the captain.  
  
"Bregs! Sullivan! Haul in, we have a break!" he cried out brandishing a newspaper. The headline read: "Serial Killer Identifies Self: Son of Sam".  
  
Main Library - Basement  
  
The dark skinned girl looked at her Watcher unbelievingly. "You're jiving me right?"  
  
The Englishman sighed and rubbed his palms across the corduroy of his pant legs and replied, "No, Nikki, I am quite serious. This has happened before. The police believe that they have a psychotic on their hands, when in reality, they have an egomaniacal demon who has possessed a human's body."  
  
"That sounds a lot like a vampire. You want I should dust him?" she asked, getting bored.  
  
"He is not a vampire. The host's body retains all outward signs of life. But, this is what makes him quite dangerous. You must dispatch with the body in order to banish the demon."  
  
"So, this is going to look like I killed a person right?" she stood up abruptly and picked up her leather duster from the chair she had slung it across when she had first arrived in the musty basement room of the main New York City Library. They had trained before going over the latest developments from around the city.  
  
"Nikki." Stewart whispered gently. "I know this is hard for you. No Slayer before you had been called after she was eighteen, let alone twenty one. This has been a major disruption in your life. I know."  
  
Nikki's eyes flashed angrily as she remembered the night seven months ago when her life was turned upside down. "You're damn right it was. I didn't ask to be Wonder Woman. One day I'm groovin', doing my thing, the next, there's some white English square telling me that I have some sacred duty to save the world." She finished her rant, still standing in the doorway.   
  
"Nikki, please. You must understand who you are. You are the one girl in all the world - "  
  
Nikki held up her hand with a defeated sigh. "Spare me the lecture Stewart. I'm going on patrol. See you on the flipside." With that, she turned to leave.  
  
"Nikki - " he started.  
  
She turned again, her expression softening. "I'll be careful."  
  
Greenwich Village  
  
He stepped out of the shower, not bothering to don a towel and snuck up on the slim brunette. Wrapping his smooth white arms around her waist and resting his chin in the hollow of her shoulder, he let a cool breath sigh past her ear. "Hello, love."  
  
"Spike," she replied, turning, surprise registering on her features.  
  
"What do you think, pet? I think I got most of it. Right hard working on appearances without a mirror." He stopped himself before he could begin babbling. He touched at his hair and pulled a white blonde lock so that it camp before his eyes and then smoothed it back again. He looked at Drusilla intently as she stood staring at him, still not saying anything. "If you don't like it, I could change it back," he offered, sounding more and more unsure of himself.  
  
"Shh!" Drusilla covered her lips with an index finger and let a rush of air pass through her teeth. "My William, such a pretty boy," she crooned holding his head between her hands, staring over his head. She caught a wave of color and idea. "You would want blonde."  
  
Spike grasped her by her shoulders and pushed her away so that he could look into the cool gray depths of her eyes. "What do you mean, pet?" he asked, puzzled.  
  
Drusilla only smirked at him. She reached behind him to retrieve the porcelain doll, the newest Miss Edith, from the bed. Taking it, she embraced it and spun away, doing a little dance and giggling. Spike shook his head, bemused and went about finding where he had thrown his clothes so hastily before. He sat on the bed and leaned back, putting both leather pant legs on at once. He rolled forward and picked his shirt off the floor. Pulling on the sleeveless union jack t shirt, he stood up. He grabbed Dru in mid spin and tossed the fragile doll carelessly to the bed. He continued her spin while holding her waist. "We're going to like New York, love."  
  
July 1977  
  
The sun had just set a couple hours ago and the Slayer stalked through a neighborhood in Queens. The Son of Sam had struck again and again and she still couldn't track him down. It seemed whatever borough she was patrolling, he had struck that night in another. Letting out a frustrated sigh, she turned and went down the stairs and stepped onto the platform to wait for the subway train that would take her home.  
  
Greenwich Village  
  
Spike looked over at the clock across from the bed where he had sprawled out. Hunting was good here. It wasn't like the sleepy suburbs of Middle America a couple decades ago. Nobody knew anybody here and nobody cared if one or two or twelve people went missing in a week. He laid his hand on Drusilla's shoulder as she stirred from her position laid out across his bare chest.  
  
"What do you want to do tonight, pet?" he asked as she sat up, delicate smile played out across her features.  
  
"I want to sing and dance," she mewled.  
  
"You don't want to go to the park again?" he asked, trying to steer her towards coherent conversation.  
  
"I didn't like the men boys that we had there last night. They tasted funny and made my head do all sorts of strange things," she protested.  
  
Spike had felt strange too and had a hard time remembering how they had gotten from Central Park to their back alley flat behind a warehouse in the Village. It was almost like those hippies at that festival a few years back, only more intense.  
  
"So you want to dance? Let's dance tonight," he replied swinging his naked legs over the side of the bed.  
  
"Oh goody!" she answered, clapping her hands happily.  
  
Harlem  
  
"Yo! Nikki!" a voice called out as she emerged from the subway station.  
  
She turned around to see where the voice came from and noticed movement in the alley way. She felt a tingling at the back of her mind. A man not much older than her emerged and casually slung his arm around her shoulders.  
  
"Where you been, girl? We've missed you."  
  
"Junior!" she exclaimed throwing her arms completely around the man, a broad smile etched across her face. "I've been busy," she replied to his previous question, as they walked in the direction of her apartment.  
  
"What are you now? Too good for your own neighborhood? What's the matter? That James Bond reject doesn't want you hanging around your old digs? He your new man?"  
  
Nikki cast a sidelong glance at her companion. "Are you feeling alright?"  
  
"Never felt better," he replied, his skin changing from that of a handsome young man to that of her calling.  
  
"Junior! What - When - Why?" she asked, desperation in her voice as he grasped her by the throat and slammed her up against a wall.  
  
To his surprise, she braced herself and pushed off the wall sending the two of them sprawling. He threw a punch which she blocked with a high kick. She followed up with a series of chops and kicks which he couldn't fend off and sent him flying into a brick wall with another kick to his stomach. Seconds later, Nikki knelt above the ashes of the only friend she had who hadn't drifted away.  
  
Her face crumpled. She and Junior had grown up together. He was like an older brother and now he was dead. Permanently this time. With a detached part of her mind, she thought to herself. This couldn't have happened more than a day ago. I saw him in the sun two days ago on my way to school. She had wanted to talk to him then, figure out when they could hang out. Now it was too late.  
  
Straightening, she brushed off the leather of her coat and walked calmly towards her apartment, not letting the tears fall.  
  
23rd Precinct  
  
"So what we're saying here is that we have a case where some loony saying that he hears a demon dog telling him to kill brunettes still unsolved. Then there are all of those unrelated cases of missing persons. How do we know he's not kidnapping people too?" Detective Bregs asked.  
  
"Because of the people who were found, and there were only a few, we can tell that its not the same loony." Sullivan replied ruefully, going over the crime scene report. "Throats and sometimes hearts ripped out, barely any blood left in the veins, but none around the victim's body. Usually young, but not all brunettes."  
  
"We can't have mass hysteria on our hands. If word of another serial killer gets out, people will panic." Captain Smyth said. "We let the boys in the other precincts worry about our resident psycho and we'll try to take care of this other case quietly."  
  
Harlem  
  
Nikki let herself into her apartment quietly. Her roommate was out for the evening and frankly she was happy for the lack of company.  
  
She let her thoughts drift as she collapsed on the sofa, almost completely exhausted. Sure, she was a pretty decent vampire slayer, but it was this demon that was getting her down. She was out at all hours, still she couldn't find him. She felt as if whatever powers she was supposed to have were abandoning her. She didn't even know until it was almost too late that Junior had been turned. She had already lost friends to the mundane dangers of the world. Drugs, gangs, but Junior was the first she had to kill. Dammit. If she had only been around.  
  
But she knew she was only fooling herself. She hadn't really spoken or just hung out with any of her friends in months. As for family, she grinned ruefully to herself, can't mourn for a family that wasn't around anymore. A fire in her building several years ago had claimed everyone by her youngest sister and she had gone to live with a great aunt in Georgia. Even though her friends lived all around her, she was alone. Every day and every night.  
  
Her phone buzzed and she almost considered not answering it. After the sixth ring, she decided the person on the other end wasn't going to give up.  
  
"Hello?" she asked.  
  
"Oh, Nikki, thank goodness you're home."  
  
"Stewart. What's wrong?"  
  
"A friend of mine at the 23rd Precinct phoned me a few minutes ago about a series of murders that are taking place in lower Manhattan."  
  
"So what? That's what the fuzz is for," she replied, wishing she hadn't picked up the phone.  
  
"It's not that simple. The deaths were…brutal. He didn't think that it was done by humans. This is a job for you as the Slayer."  
  
"Damn, and I thought I was gonna have a good night's sleep for once. Where am I going now?"  
  
"From Central Park down to the Battery, but the attacks have been concentrated in Greenwich Village. Do be careful. A couple of anonymous eyewitnesses have described the attacker and I do believe I know who it its." Stewart began.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"William the Bloody, also known as Spike. He is most probably with his sire, Drusilla."  
  
"So this is a vampire. What's so special about him?"  
  
"There is no need for me to say that he is ruthless and dangerous. Evil, he has cut swathes through continents and left nothing but corpses in his wake. And he has already faced and killed at least one Slayer."  
  
Nikki's eyes flew open at that. "Well, he won't get a second," she replied determinedly and hung up the phone.  
  
Studio 54  
  
Spike exited the women's bathroom, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he went. The young clientele here was perfect for him to feed upon. Drunk, drugged, looking for an easy shag. They didn't know that Death walked among them.  
  
He scanned across the dance floor. His eyes paused momentarily on Dru as she moved sensually against her next victim, her cheeks still tinged with pink from her kill on the way to the club. He rolled his gaze over to the bar, where he saw her.  
  
She was tall, he could tell even though she was sitting down. She was wearing a long leather duster that would have been completely incongruous with the season if not for the low cut white tank top and gold hot pants underneath. She toyed with a drink and looked sullenly across the sweaty room and her eyes locked with his.  
  
Spike gave her his most engaging smile and predator like began to move towards her. She returned the smile and turned to face the bar. *Coquette*, Spike thought to himself. He ran his tongue over his lower lip as he absently pulled at the beached spikes on his head. He tweedled the end, making sure it looked as deadly sharp as a railroad spike. He oozed into the seat that had just become vacant next to her.  
  
"Hello, foxy," he drawled, lighting a cigarette. "Wanna dance?"  
  
Nikki looked at the strange Brit that had sat down next to her. Some punk, probably here for the weekend. White as all hell, but still, not bad looking. She was tired of the solitary life and even though she knew nothing would come of a dance, she decided to pretend, even for a few minutes. She stood up and moved in the direction of the dance floor. She stopped and turned expectantly. He got up and followed her.  
  
As their feet touched the floor, the music changed, hard and fast, and they moved instinctively to the beat. As they gyrated, the floor suddenly cleared around them as people paused to take in the sight of them. By all outward appearances, they seemed to be two people who would never be together, but their movements were so perfect that, even though they had never laid eyes on each other before tonight, they could not be two separate entities. They belonged together.  
  
The song ended and Nikki was wrapped in his embrace, her back to his chest, and her head just on his shoulder. The crowd clapped and another song came on, its slowness a sharp contrast to the beat of before. The spectators dispersed and the dance floor quickly filled up again.   
  
Spike spun her around and was pleased that he didn't have to look down to see her eyes. He let his hands snake around her waist. This one is good. It's too bad she's going to die tonight. Maybe its time I make a childe of my own…  
  
His thoughts drifted off as he saw Dru come into his periphery. She gave him a conspiratorial stage wink and edged closer to the door. She wanted to share. He shook his head slightly and she pouted.   
  
Turning away from his dark beauty, he pulled his arms tighter around the one he was already holding. He murmured in her ear. "What's your name, pet?"  
  
"Nikki," floated the answer a short distance to his ear.  
  
"We're going to have a good time, Nikki. My name's Spike."  
  
Instantly, as if she had been burned, she pulled back from him, anger on her face, but in her eyes was fear. He could see it, he reveled in it, but now she was talking.  
  
"So where's Drusilla? She know you're drawing designs on me?"  
  
Now it was Spike's turn to rear back in surprise. "How do you know who I am?"  
  
"My Watcher told me."  
  
"You're the Slayer? You girls keep coming back. Like roaches you are. Too bad I have to kill you," he said, with mock regret in his voice. Oh, but he did regret it. She was hot and she had moves. He was already planning on turning her when he had asked for her name and now his hopes for a new companion dissolved into delight at the possibility of killing another Slayer. He would prove that the first one wasn't just a fluke.  
  
"Let's go then," she answered confidently and went into a fighting stance.  
  
Suddenly, the music stopped and all of the lights went out. Panicked screams filled the club as it was plunged into darkness.  
  
To be continued.... 


	2. Goodnight

I Say Goodbye and Goodnight  
  
Part 2  
  
Central Park  
  
"C'mon pet, I don't understand. Why are you so angry?" Spike tossed his cigarette on the sidewalk as they walked home and moved towards Drusilla in the dark.  
  
She whirled to him. "I can see her breath and taste her sweat on you. She's all through you Spike."  
  
Spike thought back to his dance with the Slayer before he knew who she was. Oh, he had wanted her something bad and she had wanted him. If only they could have learned about each other after a night. Oh, who was he kidding? If he hadn't found out, she would have been dead by the end of the night and if it hadn't been for the bleeding' city wide blackout, she would have been dead right then and there.  
  
"She's a bloody Slayer, Dru! I want to kill her, not shag her." Drusilla looked at him disbelievingly and he continued, pleadingly. "Love. Don't be cross. It's been over a week!"  
  
He held her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. "If I kill her, will you forgive me?"  
  
Drusilla nodded and a slow smile began to spread across her face as they embraced. Over his shoulder, she spied a young couple walking across the Great Lawn. She spun Spike around so that he could see them as well. Words unnecessary, they began to stalk their prey.  
  
*****  
  
Nikki moved through the park, hunting. She didn't usually go this deep into the park, but she sensed that something REALLY BAD was there tonight. The Son of Sam continued to elude her and the police. She hoped she could take him down before he killed anyone else.  
  
She had been following the young couple since they entered the park, but kept to parallel paths behind them. They fit the victim profile and he was there, the Son of Sam would show himself.  
  
The couple sat on a bench and Nikki's Slayer sense went off the charts. She took a quick scan of the area and behind a tree, she caught sight of a heavy set man watching the couple as well. "It's him," she breathed.  
  
With bold strides, she made her way over to the man. The metal of her sword banged against her thigh reassuringly from its holster. She began running through the fighting routines she and Steward had been working on in her mind.  
  
She was so focused on the task looming before her that she didn't notice her surroundings. A hand came down on her shoulder and spun her to the ground.  
  
She shook her head and looked up. A man was holding her down and looking at her with amusement. Over his shoulder was a slight brunette, dressed like she was going to a costume party. The man removed his beret and sunglasses and spoke, his breath reeking of smoke.  
  
"Fancy meeting you here, pet."  
  
Nikki tried to get up but was forced down again. "Spike."  
  
"You should really watch where you're going, love. You never know what baddies might get you in the middle of the night," he said to her with a smug smirk.  
  
"Yeah, you never know." Nikki bantered back. In one swift motion she dug her hand into the ground and threw the mound of dirt at Spike's face.  
  
Immediately, his hands flew to his eyes, trying to claw the offending particles out.  
  
"Oh, you sodding bitch!" he cried out as she jumped up from under him. She began to run towards the demon that she had actually been tracking intent on killing him now that she had finally seen him.  
  
"Going somewhere?" the pale girl asked, suddenly in front of her.  
  
Nikki chose not to answer and swung a left hook directly for the girl's temple.  
  
Drusilla caught Nikki's fist in midair. Her face altered into her true form and she began to squeeze. "Naughty Slayer."  
  
Nikki's knees began to buckle from the pain. With her other hand she reached into her duster and withdrew a wicked looking stake.  
  
"Goodbye, Drusilla." Nikki whispered through gritted teeth. She rose to her feet and forced the other female to back down. She heard footsteps approaching her from behind and moved to strike.  
  
"Dru!" Spike cried out with anguish as he saw what was about to happen.  
  
Drusilla turned to him, haunted, but Nikki did not waver. She brought the stake to Drusilla's chest and -  
  
BANG! BANG-BANG!  
  
Shots rang out close by and the sound startled Nikki enough to loosen her hold on Drusilla. The vampire tore away from the less than iron grip and ran towards Spike. A brief touch and they were both gone.  
  
"Damn!" Nikki shouted.   
  
Realizing where the shots had come from, she ran towards the park bench that the couple had been sitting on. It had only been a few minutes, but now the bench was empty. Nikki looked at the ground and she saw two figures laying there, prone and bleeding profusely.   
  
"Oh, God," she muttered as she kneeled next to them. She checked them for any signs of life  
  
The man's eyes opened suddenly and Nikki jumped back, surprised that he was actually alive. The eyes rolled and saw Nikki staring right back. He opened his mouth and blood poured out.  
  
"Help us….," he whispered as his eyes closed. His head lolled.  
  
Nikki continued to kneel, torn. She didn't want to leave them there, but if she didn't do anything, they would die. She came to a decision and got up.   
  
She pushed herself with all of the speed she knew she had and ran. She came out of the park and found the nearest pay phone and dialed 911.  
  
"This is Operator Seven Three Oh. What is your emergency?"  
  
"In the park, two people have been shot. On the West side near the seventy fifth street entrance. Hurry." Nikki barked into the phone breathlessly. She hung up the phone and doubled back the way she had come.  
  
The couple was still where she had left them. The blood flow from their wounds was slowing down, but there was too much of it on the ground and not in them. Nikki hastily removed her scarf and ripped it in half. She balled up the pieces and began to apply pressure to their wounds. The woman's dark hair splayed out behind her matted with clotted blood.  
  
Sirens screamed in the distance and Nikki closed her eyes in relief as the flashing lights got closer.   
  
23rd Precinct - One Week Later  
  
"Nothing," the Captain stated flatly, throwing the files down on his desk. He walked around the two seated detectives to stand behind the massive piece of furniture. He braced his hands on the edge and leaned towards them.  
  
"What about your contact?" Bregs asked.  
  
The Captain sat down. Despite his age, he suddenly looked very old.  
  
"He's dead."  
  
"Captain!" Sullivan exclaimed, jumping up from his seat.  
  
"I'm alright. He was a friend, but he was too close to the case. Somehow, the killer found out who he was. The boys at the seventeenth sent the files over."  
  
The Captain pushed the folders towards the detectives. Bregs reached for them and opened the first. She paled and passed the crime scene photos over to her partner. Even in black and white, they were gruesome.  
  
"His body was already sent back to England as per his wishes."  
  
"So what are we going to do about this killer?" Bregs asked, putting the emphasis on the word 'this'.   
  
The Son of Sam had been caught two days prior. The city was still reeling from his shooting spree which had lasted just over a year. The couple in the park had been his last victims. They would have to live with the injuries they had suffered for the rest of their lives, but, they would have the rest of their lives to live thanks to the anonymous phone call that had been placed to summon an ambulance.   
  
The captain was about to reply when the door to his office creaked open. A face peeked around the edge of the door and was followed by a female body.   
  
"Captain Chanders, you wanted to see me?"  
  
Bregs and Sullivan looked from the tall black girl and back at the Captain. She had obviously been crying. She shivered as she stood in the door in spite of her heavy leather coat.   
  
The Captain stood and crossed the room to her. He embraced her briefly and closed his door. He turned towards the detectives as they watched him expectantly.  
  
"Nikki, I'd like you to meet Detectives Bregs and Sullivan," he said nodding to each in turn.   
  
"Detectives, this is Nikki. Stewart Ripley was her guardian and she is who we need to eliminate this killer's threat to our city."  
  
Bryant Park - Two Nights Ago  
  
That bloody Slayer is ruining my fun. Spike thought to himself. He lit the last cigarette in his pack and stared at his surroundings, not really seeing them.  
  
He was seated at a small table at the outdoor café behind the city's main library. The days were starting to get shorter and for the first time, he arrived before the café could close. Drusilla refused to leave the Village since their meeting with the Slayer five days ago.   
  
Spike finished his drink and slammed a five dollar bill down on the table and exited the park. He went to a street vendor and purchased another pack of cigarettes. He could have killed the waiter at the café and the vendor, but he was too preoccupied with the Slayer. He still wanted to kill her, but now he wanted to make her suffer.   
  
Death for him at the hands of a Slayer would be fitting. He fancied himself the best; why not be killed by the best? But, she had almost killed Dru and he wouldn't stand for that.  
  
He turned from the vendor and removed the protective wrapping from the pack and shook out the first cigarette and lit it with the dying stub of his last. He scanned the front steps of the library, both admiring the ambiance and looking for his next victim. What he saw instead made him smile with real pleasure.  
  
New York City Main Library - Basement  
  
The door to his office slammed open and Steward jumped up from his chair. He grabbed a nearby battleaxe from the latest shipment of medieval weaponry he had secretly delivered to the library instead of his home. His expression of fear as he saw who had entered.  
  
"Nikki! How many times do I have to tell you, do not kick open my office door?"  
  
Nikki grinned at him. "But it's always so funny to see your face when I do."  
  
Stewart gave her a disapproving glare, but its effects were lost because of the small smile that danced on his lips.  
  
Nikki threw herself into a chair sideways and slung her legs over the arm rest. "They caught him."  
  
Stewart nodded. "Yes, I read the papers this morning. It would seem that the demon has left this poor man to take responsibility for what it did. My contact at the department assures me that he is quite insane now. But, now that that matter is cleared up, what progress have you made regarding Spike?"  
  
Nikki's good humor disappeared and she looked sullenly at the floor. This was a question she had been trying to evade for weeks. She had never told Steward about her two encounters with Spike. Now that the Son of Sam threat had been removed, there was no real way to steer the conversation away from the vampire that had eluded her.  
  
"Nikki? What's wrong?" Stewart asked, worried.  
  
"Well, he's a good dancer," she began.  
  
A thousand thoughts ran through Stewart's mind as Nikki continued to pour out the details of her meetings with the vampire.  
  
When she finished, one final emotion stood out. Anger.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me before?" he asked, outraged.  
  
Nikki shrank back. She had never expected this from the mild mannered, corduroy wearing Englishman. "I don't know!" she shouted back.  
  
"You could have been hurt, killed. My God, Nikki, he's already killed one Slayer. You haven't even - "  
  
"Oh, I see. You don't have any faith in me. I'm out of here." Nikki cut him off and flounced out of the room.   
  
Stewart sat in his chair, stunned. All of his anger evaporated. True, he was a little hurt that she hadn't told him about Spike, but more than that, he was very worried. In the year that he'd gotten to know her, he had come to think of Nikki as his friend, almost a daughter. Every night he sent her into a battlefield that she might never return from and he feared for her.  
  
Stewart stood and exited the office. He picked up his speed and by the time he reached the huge revolving doors of the front entrance, he was almost at a trot. He emerged from the library and saw Nikki's retreating form on the last set of steps.  
  
"Nikki! Nikki!" he called.  
  
He wasn't sure if she had heard him or not. Her step never faltered and she didn't turn. Neither one saw the black clad figure standing in front of a street vendor and smirking as he saw them both.  
  
The Next Night  
  
After a whole day to think about the previous night, Nikki decided that it just wasn't worth fighting with Stewart. He was there to guide her and she wasn't doing her part if she was keeping things from him. He was the only person in the world who knew and understood who she was. She needed him.  
  
She left her apartment and decided to walk to the library tonight. She needed time to think. The whole reason she had kept Spike from her Watcher was that she was scared. She was scared that she was not cut out for the whole Slayer gig. The everyday vampire was no big deal, but when something big came up, like the Son of Sam or Spike, she blew it. She knew that she would die on this job someday and that made it more depressing. She didn't want to die, but she didn't want to be the Slayer anymore.   
  
When she heard Stewart's voice, she knew that he shared those fears. She knew that those fears were justified, she just couldn't hear it last night. She just lost it. It was the first time she had left his office angry.  
  
She wasn't angry with him anymore. She never was, she was mostly mad at herself for being so pigheaded. She glanced at the stone lions outside of the library as she bounded up the steps. She made her way down into the basement, eager to get the argument behind them.  
  
Stewart's door was open and Nikki resisted the urge to kick it open. Her greeting died on her lips as she entered the office.   
  
She took in the scene. Something was wrong. All of Stewart's books were in disarray, his desk upended. Every detail of the office burned itself into her mind, right down to his shattered eyeglasses on the floor. She dragged her eyes away from the carnage.  
  
"Stewart?" she whispered.  
  
"Stewart!" she cried out.  
  
She looked around wildly, her thoughts a jumble, cool logic telling her that none of this could be real.  
  
Finally, she moved towards her training area, careful to avoid stepping on the already mangled spectacles. Absently, she picked up a shoe that no doubt belonged to Stewart. He must have dropped this on his way out, she thought to herself. She passed the bookshelves that served as dividers between the office and training area.  
  
She looked at the end of the room first. Nothing amiss. She stepped into the room and slipped. She fell down and found herself staring at Stewart's sock clad foot. Her breath caught and she pushed herself to her knees. She looked at her hands. They were covered in blood. She began to tremble as she looked at her watcher. He was covered in blood too.   
  
"STEWART!" Nikki grabbed the dead man's shoulders and shook him. His head hung at an unnatural angle from his neck and now it flopped down so that his chin touched what was left of his chest.  
  
Held there by a short metal barb was an envelope, covered in gore. She could still see that it was addressed to her.  
  
*****  
  
He was surprised at how easily he found the Watcher. He merely walked into the building and gave a description of the man to a security guard and asked where he could find him. He trekked down the stairs to the basement and found the office.   
  
'Stewart Ripley', it said on the sheet of paper posted to the frosted glass of the top half of the door. Spike had kicked in the door and saw the man with his back turned going over something on the floor. A battleaxe was at his side, but he made no motion towards it or the door.   
  
Spike made his way over to the desk as the man was speaking and flipped it over. It knocked into the man's back and landed across his legs. Belatedly, the Watcher turned and went even whiter with terror. "You're not Nikki."  
  
"Oh you know who I am, Stewie." Spike teased.  
  
"Spike."  
  
"That's right. I'm here for your Slayer, but since she's not here, I'll just have to kill you." Spike emphasized the last set of words with a boot to the fallen man's head, chest and back.   
  
Spike put his hands under the injured man's shoulders and dragged him into the back room. One of his shoes had fallen off along the way. Stewie wouldn't be needing it anymore, he thought to himself. Even if he lived to see the end of the night, which he wouldn't, his legs had been crushed by the impact of the desk landing on them.   
  
He was babbling incoherently now. "Kill me. I'm not who is important. Nikki is the Slayer."  
  
"Not if I can help it, man." Spike replied, drawing three railroad spikes he had held onto from the old days out from his back pocket. Looking around, Spike picked up a rather hefty volume of "The Complete Works of William Shakespeare" and tested its weight. "Perfect."  
  
Spike placed the Watcher's left hand against the wall and held it in place with his knee. Placing the point of the spike on Stewart's wrist, he swung the book at the top with all of his might. It went in past his wrist and all the way into the wall. The Watcher screamed at top volume and Spike punched him in the jaw, breaking it. The blood was flowing now. Spike resisted the urge to drink. He wanted as much blood around for the Slayer to see as possible.  
  
"Take it like a man!" he growled. The heap of flesh only whimpered.  
  
Spike repeated the action with his other wrist, this time tapping the spike gently, forcing it through tissue and bone ever so slowly. Tears dropped hotly from the man's swollen eyes, but he made no sound. Spike cupped Stewart's broken jaw in his hand and forced the man to look at him. He smiled almost genially. Almost dead, but now he was taking It like a man. He almost felt a pang of guilt. Almost.   
  
He moved his hand up and to the right sharply, breaking the Watcher's neck. He was dead now.   
  
Spike rose and made his way over to the outer portion of the office. From the mound of things from the desk scattered across the floor, he picked up the Watcher's date book. He flipped through it, looking for a blank sheet. He came to today's date and read the entries.  
  
He smiled and ripped the page out. He finished scribbling a little note, folded the paper in half and wrote her name on it. He went back to what must have been the Slayer's training room. The irony of the situation made him laugh out loud as he went to work nailing the note into the Watcher's chest.   
  
*****  
  
Hello Love,  
Happy Birthday. Hope you like my present.   
Spike  
  
*****  
  
Nikki left the police station after her short meeting with Captain Chanders and the two detectives. They had been tracking Spike across the lower half of Manhattan, but they couldn't seem to get a handle on where he stayed during the day. The discussion was short, mostly because Nikki didn't want to go into everything that she was. It seemed that the Captain already knew so he just waved her on when she asked to leave. She promised to get the perp as Bregs and Sullivan insisted on calling him and left without bothering to wait for a reply.  
  
She had turned twenty two yesterday, but she had forgotten because all of her thoughts were taken up with Stewart. He wouldn't be able to tell her if she was the oldest Slayer in history, but she guessed that she was.  
  
She hadn't cried since this morning. She was through with tears. She was through with laughs. She was through with words. She despaired and was angry with herself anew for that feeling. She had been riding the subways all day long, thinking. She looked at her watch and noticed that she had been riding them for almost half the night. She looked around at the empty subway car as it rattled around her.   
  
The lights went out and when they came back on, a pair of legs blocked her vision. She looked up and saw that familiar arrogant face.  
  
"Hello, foxy. Want to dance?" he asked, almost gentlemanly. His hair was longer than it had been when she last saw him. Or maybe his spikes looked longer and sharper.   
  
Nikki got up as the lights flickered again and raced at the vampire, throwing wild punches. Bastard. She felt the fear touch her heart as he picked her up by the lapels of her duster and threw her to the ground.   
  
She was through playing games. This punk was going down. She rolled and got to her feet. It wasn't easy with the train bucking across the tracks uncontrollably. She took in his smile and easily sidestepped his lunge. Saw that one coming a mile away.   
  
As he passed through the spot she had been standing in, she grabbed his belt and threw him through the glass window of the car. She pushed him further, hoping that something would catch him and cut his head off for her.   
  
Over the din of the train, Nikki heard a muffled "Oh, yeah!" He was enjoying this! That's it, she thought to herself, reaching into her coat. She pulled out the stake that she kept with her always. It was her favorite. Pencil thin and deadly sharp. She moved to complete her action when the train lurched and Spike managed to get out of her grasp.  
  
Every heavy handed fist was blocked as effectively by the other. He knew the moves she was going to make, just as she knew his. Nikki realized that she wasn't going to get anywhere if they continued with this. She jumped up on a pole and used her momentum to carry her swing through. Her feet connected with his head, knocking him into the next pole.  
  
As he ripped the pole out of its moorings, and gave it an experimental twirl, a smile on his face the whole time, the fear touched her heart again, but what got to her was that it touched her mind for the first time as well. He was almost right in front of her and she swung a fist as hard as she could at his face. Any other man or demon would have gotten the smirk wiped off of their faces after a punch like that, but Spike kept right on smiling.  
  
Nikki stared at him, shocked. She was also starting to tire. As she fought, weaponless, she managed to avoid more blows than she received, but the ones that she had hurt badly. She saw the pole as it came down en route to her cranium and caught it just as it was about to smash through. Her hands holding Spike in place via the pole momentarily, Nikki hefted a boot clad foot into the nether regions of the vampire's torso. So tired. But she couldn't give up. Stewart would want her to go on.  
  
As she thought of her watcher, she brought her fists up again and swung from her heels. He went down and Nikki landed on top of him. This time, she hit the vampire with everything. All of her grief, her anger, her rage, everything. The lights flickered on and off. Didn't matter, she knew where his face was.   
  
The lights went off again and she felt the train heave violently. She lost her balance and fought to stay on top. She lost that fight. As the lights came back on, she stared dumbly into his black ringed eyes. She was surprised by how blue they were. Her shoulders sagged and his hands were on her throat.  
  
I'm sorry Stewart, she thought to herself as she felt the arrested breaths coming through her throat, fewer and further between. I'm sorry that I couldn't be a better Slayer. I'm sorry that we fought. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. Her hands drifted up towards his, but she wasn't really trying. His hands moved from her neck to the sides of her head.   
  
She looked into his eyes again and acknowledged defeat even as he wrenched her neck brutally. She heard the noises around her briefly. The train had come to a stop. She knew that she was being moved and heard the sound of the doors as they closed again. The world plunged into darkness even as the train traveled on.  
  
The End 


End file.
